


Early Days

by Lunawritings



Series: Before the start [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Physical Assault, Mentions of drugs, fem!lock, mentions of verbal assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunawritings/pseuds/Lunawritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't strung out on a crime scene. But sober in an alleyway that Sherlock Holmes first met Greg Lestrade. Though neither of them knew it would be the start of a great working relationship and friendship back then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The would be victim

**Author's Note:**

> As with the last one this is mostly based of my RP's though i can't dedicate it to anyone specifically. This is how i think Sherlock and Greg's first meeting went. This is also a Fem!Lock drabble, if you don't like it then don't read it. I might write a series of short stories all set pre-series about Sherlock and Greg's early working relationship, because i find it a very interesting part that isn't nearly talked or written about enough. Anyway as last time this is for pure fun, i am not affiliated with the Connan Doyle estate or with the BBC (i wish) and while commenting is encouraged and much appreciated no flames please. Thank you and enjoy.

“ooh piss off” She snarled at the man. “I'll get your money some other time just give me some” Sherlock did not have time for this. And she really did not feel like arguing with the ant in front of her. Bloody idiot. “Doesn't work like that Holmes, you pay or you get nothin' “ he spoke back. He had no pleasure in dealing with the woman but she paid and money was all he was interested. “You know full well that i'll pay you later, I always do. I assume this has something to do with getting rejected earlier, but I really don't want your petty feelings getting in the way of this transaction” she hissed out. She was craving something, anything, and the longer he denied her the more angry she got.

 

The argument did not improve on that point. Sherlock did not even feel like talking to her dealer, she could hardly bring up any respect for the man and the only interest she had in him was the stuff he sold. Vice versa he only was interested in the money she currently did not possess. It wasn't the amount of noise that had gotten him out of the pub and into the alley next to it though it was the need for another smoke before heading home and no doubt getting told off for being so late and not to mention smelling of cigarette smoke again. When he heard the argument going on though he made the, wrong, assumption that a woman (at the very least) was being verbally assaulted. Being the type of man that he was, he intervened.

 

“Al right calm down mate” he spoke, walking forward with a determined step. Sherlock's head snapped right over to the intruder, narrowing her eyes and quickly assessing the man and how much of an issue he truly would be for her. Truth be told it would be quite a problem if he found out what they were really up to. However Sherlock could equally see that he had looked at the situation and instantly drawn the wrong conclusions. Perhaps that was a good thing though. “Fuck off this is non of your business” Wilson replied to the intruder. Sherlock rolled her eyes, she already knew that this was not going to end well. “you really shouldn't....” she couldn't finish her sentence before Wilson snapped at her “and you keep your mouth shut you manipulative bitch”

 

Sherlock was less then impressed. And the man saw this as all the proof that he needed that he had been right to intervene. “Now listen. Whatever has happened between you two there is no need for you to talk to her like that” he spoke. Sherlock, still not impressed wanted to talk him out of the conversation. Wilson, and his obviousness started before her though. Grabbed the man by the lapels and gave him a shake. Sherlock sighed, ooh great, this was exactly what she wanted to avoid. “Listen dude, I don't think who you are but fuck off”

 

“I think you should just walk away Sir” the man said flashing a badge. Police, detective Sargent. Exactly as Sherlock anticipated. “You really have no idea don't you?” Wilson spoke. “No and frankly I don't care what she called you. I suggest you take a walk and calm down unless you want to come down to the station” Wilson shot her a glare that told sherlock all she needed to know before actually walking away muttering something along the lines of unfucking believable. Before the Detective could ask her if she was al right Sherlock was talking “You really should have just left us alone. That was in no way helpful Detective Sargent, I suggest you keep your misguided sense to aid the world around you for when you're on duty”

 

The detective's brow furrowed at that. Her tone of voice was arrogant, possibly even annoyed with him. “It didn't look like that. And as an officer of the law I thought it best to intervene, given the fact he was about to punch you in the face” Sherlock smirked at that. “I would have liked to see him try, it would have at least made for one interesting thing this evening. Besides you're clearly off duty, I can smell that you've had at least three pints and you only came out here to smoke. No need to get yourself involved into business that isn't yours”

 

Greg was even more surprised at that. Sure he had a pint or two but he wasn't drunk or tipsy enough for anyone to notice that about him? And the other man certainly hadn't. Sherlock continued though. “And it's rather obvious that you work for the yard and that your usual department does not include little arguments or street violence.” Sherlock smirked. “Unless one of the people involved ends up dead of course. Rest assured Detective Sargent. Wilson doesn't have the mental capabilities to murder a human being and not get himself caught in the act, let alone murder me.”

 

Greg honestly had not expected this. Sure he had seen lots of things at the yard, both good and bad. But he had never met anyone like the woman in front of him. And while he puzzled to come up with a reply, she lit a cigarette as if it all was plain as day, the things she had just stated about him. “How the hell do you know all that?” he stated. Sherlock almost laughed. It had been a while since she had heard a statement like that, now a days she didn't often use her deductive skills. At least not in a way that people might give her unguarded praise for it, as the man just had.

 

“Easy, I observe. It's childs play, even an imbecile could see those things, and you did show your badge earlier” she stated. Rolling her eyes. Though it was rather nice to hear it again. “Right. You know you'd make a pretty good detective with that skill” he spoke. This time Sherlock actually laughed. It would be the only time Lestrade heard the woman laugh for a while, though he didn't know it at the time. And he had no previous context to know how rare an occasion it was. Sherlock hadn't laughed since Victor. And Victor had been the last one to say something very similar. “I wouldn't be the yard is full of idiots, Detective Sargent, the entire world is. I see no reason to associate myself with them any further.”

 

It was with those words that she left the man, smoking as she went shaking her head again but suddenly very cold and once again all the more aware of the need to get a fix. The need to forget and to shut the entire world out. Finding someone else to buy coke from wasn't that hard, it took her lest then forty five minutes to steal what she needed for another hit, and another forty five to find a new dealer to buy some stuff from. She retreated back into her apartment, if one could call it that, and shot up. Her dealings with Wilson were over, but she had already found someone else to buy from. What Sherlock did not anticipate was that her dealings with Lestrade were only beginning.

 

 


	2. First case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock solves her first case for Lestrade. Though he doesn't know who she is or how she did it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still do not own Sherlock and this is all just for fun. If you don't like fem!lock then that's fine you don't have to. Please don't flame but commentary is welcomed and much appreciated thank you.

It took four months, five days and slightly more then two hours between their first and second meeting. This time Detective Sargent Lestrade was on duty, investigating a lead on a murder suspect in a part of town her did not enjoy spending time in. It wasn't exactly pity that he felt towards the people in the building, Lestrade understood that addiction wasn't as clear as a choice but he knew they could all be doing something better with their lives. Still he was only there for the one person who might have committed a murder. Except that the much needed Alex Witersby was nowhere in the building. Someone else was though.

 

Sherlock was coming down for a hit, already craving the next one, though she did not have any drugs on her. She'd need to go talk to someone to get more. Ugh, tedious. She knew someone else was in the building, and he (because by his pace it was most certainly a he) was alone. He was careful, not at all comfortable with being there, and looking for something. Or perhaps someone. She didn't know. What she did know that he wasn't the usual. Still that could be anyone from concerned family member, to social worker. But given the time the final option, cop, seemed to be the most likely.

 

When he shone the flash light into the room she stayed she recognized him. As he was looking around she sat up. Still slightly dazed. But sharp enough to talk to someone coherently. “You're not going to find him here Detective Sargent” she spoke, clearly. And obviously just a little bit disappointed. Well the last time they met she had also doubted how on earth he had made it that far. “Besides Alex isn't the killer” she added.

 

Lestrade may not have recognized her the last time. After all last time she had looked like an average young twenties woman. She had sounded ridiculously posh and carried herself in the same way. The woman he was looking at her now was still in her early twenties, but looked younger and certainly more vulnerable. Her clothing wasn't average rather it was dirty and seemed old, and one if not two sizes to big on her already far to skinny frame. She still sounded posh and arrogant though, and that was how he recognized her as the victim of the not really domestic assault that wasn't domestic assault from a few months back. “And how do you know that?” he asked, more then a bit sceptic to trust the word of a drug addict.

 

Sherlock sighed, it was the most obvious and dull question anyone could ask of her. But she had expected it. “You think Alex killed his sister because their parents had disinherited him given his problems. Not a stupid assumption but you are missing several crucial facts. First of all, Alex was high on LSD on the night his sister was killed. I know neither you nor any judge would take the word of some _druggies_ for it. But have you thought about the fact that Alex was going to meetings regularly. He wasn't open about it, non of his friends knew. But he wanted to get off it, for his sister more then anyone else. Now the parents didn't either. But who else would have to gain from the Leslie dying and from Alex staying in prison” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a question but Lestrade couldn't answer it. “Alex' nephew Thomas has been staying with them since he was 16. With Leslie dead and Alex guilty for it he would become the only benefactor. And what was mostly his motivation, he would be considered their only kid. If you search his flat you'll probably find traces on blood on some of the clothes he wore, I doubt he had the brains to properly dispose of them. Put him in an interrogation room and he'll crack.”

 

Lestrade wasn't sure what to believe. On one hand it seemed outrageous, but then again it was a very plausible theory. Just as plausible as the idea that Alex may have done this. “And how the _hell_ would you know any of that?” he spoke after a few moments of silence. Noticing that over the time of their conversation he had knelt down besides her and she had popped herself up against the wall. “Because I notice detective inspector.” Sherlock retorted. “Unlike you lot I actually observe what is going on around me and I have the capacity to figure it out.” that seemed obvious to even Lestrade. “Then why are you doing this to yourself?” it was a question that he wanted to ask everyone in the room and it was a question Sherlock ignored. Lestrade knew he wasn't getting anything else out of her tonight and he merely sighed and left. The theory she had explained to him kept brewing into his head though. The next day he investigated. Given permission by his superiors with a bit of an eyeroll, them stating that really it was unlikely compared to the idea that the addict had done it.

 

Lestrade stumped them all. An hour later he phoned in to get forensics to the apartment. He had found the bloody clothing. Thomas Witersby was brought in and questioned. And it pretty much happened exactly as Sherlock had said it would. Lestrade found the clothing, they arrested Thomas. And not even fifteen minutes into the interrogation Thomas cracked, he wrote a confession and signed it. Stating that it had all gone out of hand and that he loved his little sister. Mrs. and Mr Witersby couldn't believe it when they were told the news. Both being especially mournful of believing their son could have been capable of such a thing. They found Alex not to soon afterwards, he returned with his parents that night. It was a certainty that he would leave for rehab in the morning.

 

The only thing Lestrade hadn't figured out yet was how Sherlock had known any of it. When he returned to the building he had found her in last night she was gone. When he asked after her, though he couldn't really ask that much since he didn't know her name, they told him that she had left earlier that afternoon. When he asked if she could somehow be contacted they all merely shrugged and stated that they didn't know her, but that she likely wouldn't be back. Lestrade couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. But his intrigue over the woman who had seemingly out of no where solved a case and prevented an innocent man from going to jail grew.

 


End file.
